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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22564711">Unforgivable</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/AconiteArt/pseuds/AconiteArt'>AconiteArt</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Betrayal, Character Study, Introspection, One-Sided Attraction</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-02-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-04-28 08:19:59</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>978</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22564711</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/AconiteArt/pseuds/AconiteArt</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>No matter how long she's stood at my side, the only thing she can do is kneel</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Bellatrix Black Lestrange/Voldemort</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Unforgivable</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Such a disdainful place, built with magic and filthy with the mundane. The lifeless stench of muggles had sunken into its very core. Cowards had hidden within its crowded walls for decades. It would be such a waste to spill more magical blood, but no one would miss a den of blood traitors. Lestrange stands at my side, roiling with malcontent. Always so eager to please, willing to do anything to gain a scrap of my attention. Despite the magic clinging to her soul, even she was a dim shadow when grasping at my side. All that ambition, all that potential, and all she can do is kneel. These … creatures had hidden behind Dumbledore for far too long. They allowed themselves to grow weak and enamored with light. They wouldn’t be missed. The Weasley line had made its bed with the boy, and it’s far past time they lie in it. The wards dancing around that decrepit little hole will fall within minutes. Already, her magic’s slithering through them, ripping their barriers into useless cobwebs of abandoned strength. It seems Dumbledore was losing his touch if this was all the protection he gave to his prized weasels. Either that or they’d outlived their usefulness and had been cast aside.<br/>
“It’s ready, my Lord” Bellatrix breathes, her voice a low whisper of adoration. It was time, the wards had fallen. I draw on my own power, Bellatrix shuddering under the weight of my aura. A horde of Inferi shamble forward, rearing from their slumbering state. Such useful creatures, a pity that so many were too cowardly to truly utilize them. Oh, how he yearned for the day when his hordes would grow to the size they’d been before that damned child stood in his way. All it takes is a wordless command and an infusion of power to send the swarm onto the burrow. Lestrange’s eyes gleam behind her mask at the display of dark magic, giddy with madness. She leans into my side, basking in the destruction.<br/>
Lestrange presents an interesting paradigm. She’s powerful and unwaveringly loyal. The Black family had been loyal to my ideals from the beginning. But… she’s too loyal. That unthinking, continuous, perverse attachment to a single person is dangerous. Azkaban had cracked her, that was certain. I could remember how she was during my first rise to power. That intelligent, capable, coherent witch was nothing like the unhinged shell left behind. In this state, such loyalty could not be real. No one’s that committed to anyone. She doesn’t cower from me, doesn’t fear my discipline. In fact, she seems to revel in it. There had to be something else motivating her, something selfish. Simple sadism and blood supremacy weren’t enough to inspire that kind of passion.<br/>
“Bellatrix?”<br/>
“Yes, my lord?”<br/>
“I’ve never doubted you, my lord.”<br/>
“You’ve never hesitated to follow my orders”<br/>
“I’ll do anything for you”<br/>
“It’s rare indeed to find your drive, even among my inner circle. You shall be rewarded for your dedication. Now, kneel before me”<br/>
“Yes, my lord” She sank to her knees, marring her already tattered robes with dirt. She looks up at me, and I can feel her anticipation even without seeing her face. I gently pry the pale mask from her face, revealing the pallor that months of freedom had not yet cured. Gently cupping her jaw, I make her meet my eyes. I can feel her quivering pleasure resonating through the mark. Her lips had parted. Yes, this was the right path. It’s with a fondness I haven’t shown since my rebirth that I whisper,</p><p>“Avada Kedavra”</p><p>Her body collapses into the mud, face frozen between adoration and betrayal. A flick of my wand lifts her body from the ground, animating her on delicate strings. There was no sense in wasting such an unharmed body. Yes, she would continue to serve me. On the next new moon, she’ll be raised alongside the other bodies my followers have collected. As an Inferi, she’ll continue to follow, without the threat of betrayal.<br/>
The order had found Bellatrix a threat, but she died without a second glance. Just like that, she’d been destroyed utterly. All men would eventually fall to death, all except myself. Such irony, that men spend their lives chasing immortality, but all but him balk at the cost? One life, one piece of soul. That’s all it takes. Here I stand, mirrored and multiplied seven times over, above the petty human need for desperation.<br/>
I can feel the horde tearing apart that house, destroying anyone in their path. Spells are flying inside, desperately trying to fend off waves of the undead. Yet another reason these animals don’t deserve to live. They’re so limited, so uninterested in the true nature of magic. You can’t put so powerful and natural a force into the narrow boxes of human morality. The light have all these notions about good magic and bad magic when that couldn’t be further from the truth. Magic is power, plain and simple. If you’re too weak to seek power in all its facets, then you’re too weak to survive. Disgusting.<br/>
Fire blooms through the windows of the burrow, driving back my Inferi. Finally, it seems at least one of them doesn’t have his head buried in the sand. I draw back the horde, one den of blood traitors isn’t worth losing more of them. For now, they know I’m, here. They know I can slip past their defenses with ease. No matter what they do, what precautions they take, I will always find them. They all agreed to death the first time that child set foot inside their home. It is enough, for now. I’ve been waiting 15 years to finish the job, I can be patient now. With a wave of my hand, we disappear into a cloud of black smoke.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This was an assignment for my Harry Potter unit in English class. We rolled dice and received randomized prompts that we had to write short stories about. My prompts were Voldemort, Bellatrix, the burrow, the killing curse, and Inferi.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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